


Peeping Angel

by Calacious



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angel's point-of-view, Angel's soul is intact, Dark, Dubious Consent, Imperfect grammar, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Voyeurism, but he does bad things, probably shouldn't post this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:52:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander smells like blood and something else, something like sex. Angel is curious, and follows Xander to learn what his deepest, darkest secrets are. Maybe he'll even knock a chip of the boy's shoulder in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peeping Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the best story in the world, and I am not even sure if it should be shared with the world, but, here it is.
> 
> This does not feature a good, benevolent Angel, though that is, personally, my favorite.
> 
> The writing is imperfect, but, I'm trying not to obsess with grammar (I am a grammarholic -- see, I'm even using a made-up word) and the concept that writing something imperfect makes me a horrible person. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated.

Angel's curious. Were it not for that strange scent he'd smelled on the boy, earlier, during the research phase of their latest demon hunt, Angel would've returned to his own place, even though it was well before sunrise. But Xander had reeked of a briny mixture of something musty and blood.

Like sex.

Except, as far as he, and Xander's friends, knew, Xander was a virgin. It’s something that Angel’s determined to get to the bottom of, mostly because he’s not a big fan of the boy who hates him on principle. He wants to 'out' the boy, so to speak. To prove to the others, and maybe even the kid himself, that Xander is far from an innocent young man.

The images he has in his head as he follows Xander home, don't prepare him for the reality of what it is that the boy gets up to when he returns to his darkened home. The blood that Angel had smelled earlier is explained by the belting he receives from his father when he walks through the door 'late'. The other smell, the one that Angel’s come to investigate is not what he’d anticipated at all.

Angel’s never really been into peep shows, but this is one that he can’t pass up. As much as the whole idea of what’s happening to the young man is unexpected, it’s eerily intriguing, and Angel presses up against the side of the house, peeks in through the lower half of the window, where the shade doesn’t quite reach. He can see and hear everything.

"On your knees, boy." The elder Harris shoves Xander to his knees, shows the boy who’s boss. There’s a gleam of demented delight, and power, in his eyes.

The whizzing sound of a zipper being undone has Angel biting his bottom lip.

Angel slips a hand down the front of his pants as he watches what’s taking place in the Harris household – the boy swallowing, throat undulating as he reaches shaky hands up to touch his father’s erection, licks his lips, pink tongue darting out, before wrapping those lips around the head of his father’s dick.

Angel fingers his balls – there’s a little choking sound that comes from the back of Xander’s throat as his father's penis thickens, and he encases more of it in his mouth.

He starts to stroke himself – Xander's lips are wrapped tight around his father's dick, and there’s a steady sound of slurp, suck, gag, muted through the walls.

Angel comes when Xander’s father does, hand fisted in his son’s hair as he continues to fuck his face, and then he stiffens, back arching, hips jerking, knees buckling, an aborted cry of release as his seed spurts down his son’s throat. Mr. Harris pulls out with a wet, squelching noise, and Xander’s lips are wet, glistening in the soft light of the lone lamp in the living room.

Angel swallows, wipes his hand on the outside of his jeans, watches, with dark eyes as Xander swallows his father’s come and wipes his chin, and the edges of his mouth, with the back of his hand. Angel's already disappearing into the shadows by the time the teen's made his apologies for being late, and thanking his father for his tender, loving care.

The second time Angel follows Xander home, his conscience is strangely subdued. It's nearing one of the American holidays. A time for family and cheer.

Xander smells like cheap cigarette smoke, whiskey (though not from drinking), blood and sex.

Angel knows that this is more up Angelus' alley, but he's always been curious. He perches himself on a branch of the tree just outside of the boy's bedroom window. Listens to the dialogue that takes place between uncle and nephew.

"Just three more times, and she'll be all paid up. You'll get her on your sixteenth birthday."

Xander says nothing, just drops to his knees, fumbles with the man's zipper, and Angel palms his raging hard on through his jeans. The material's coarse, creates a much welcome sensation of friction as he watches what’s happening to the boy.

Xander's tongue teases the head of his uncle's penis, eliciting moans of pleasure from the man who bucks his hips forward, and Angel starts rubbing, enjoying the friction of the too-tight material of his jeans.

Xander licks a swathe along the shaft of his uncle’s penis, and Angel takes a moment to note that Xander’s uncle is nothing like the boy’s father, not nearly as long or thick. The boy’s fingers pinch and rolling the ball sacs, making his uncle utter obscenities of pleasure.

Angel’s hips jerk forward as Xander swallows his uncle's erection whole, gurgling, making slurping sounds with his mouth as he sucks the man's dick. He comes with a quiet roar when Rory – that had been the man's name – slams himself home to the back of the teen's throat again and again until he comes with a grunt and pushes the teen away. His seed spills all over Xander's face.

Angel shakes the kinks out of his neck and back, jumps to the ground, hears the shower running as he makes his way home, adjusting the fly of his wet jeans.

The third time, Angel's had a great day, nothing's gonna bring him down and he's curious as to what is making Xander jumpier than usual. He watches with a frown when the boy's mother wallops him with a frying pan and then breaks down into tears after beaning her son.

It doesn't make sense to Angel when Xander shakes off the dizzying affects of the blow to his head and immediately goes to his mother.

"Just like your father, useless, good for nothing drunk." Her hands reach for the button of Xander's jeans, the zipper, and Angel pushes his hand down the back of his jeans, works a spit slicked finger into his ass as he watches the drama unfold.

Xander helps his mom shuck her jeans off, his slack penis in the palm of her hand, stroking him. Angel inserts another finger as Xander's penis starts to respond favorably to his mother’s touch, growing stiff in his mother's capable hands. He adds another finger when Xander's mother starts to coax and cajole.

“C’mon baby, do this for mommy. Make mommy feel good.” Her voice is slurred with alcohol, and the boy’s eyes are closed as his mother guides him into her. She's sitting on a kitchen chair, Xander pulls her down onto his dick.

Angel pumps his fingers in and out, picking up the pace, brushing against the prostrate, making little mewling sounds on par with Xander's mother's grunted panting. She's doing all the work, Xander's face is pinched in pain as he's being used, his hips bucking upward, in spite of himself, skin sweat slicked, sticking to the ugly linoleum as he comes, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes as rides out his mother's shouted orgasm.

Angel comes a few seconds later, the picture of Xander's face screwed up in pain and humiliation at the forefront of his mind. For the first time he wonders what it'd be like to have Xander himself. He's gone before Xander and his Mom clean up, before Tony gets home to attend to his son.

It's a bit of a surprise the next time Angel’s around when it happens, and he's almost caught, but reaches the night shadows just in time to be a spectator in Xander's latest sexcapade.

He's early for the meeting that Giles has called, and when the scent of sex first reaches him, Angel thinks that maybe he's caught Giles with one of the secretaries, though the boy's locker room is a little far off the beaten path. It's Xander, though, and the swim coach that the gang has been investigating. And this time it's not the teen's mouth being breached.

The coach has Xander bent over his desk, dick pressed between the teen's ass cheeks. Angel has his own erect dick out and held tightly in the palm of his hand when the coach slams home, wrenching an agonized scream from Xander, stifled by the coach's hand.

Angel's strokes match that of the coach's thrusts into the silently crying teen, and he wishes that he, rather than that man, that was enjoying the pleasure of being Xander's first real fuck when the man comes inside the boy as Angel orgasms.

The coach pistons his hips a few times before pulling out of Xander and then smacking him on the ass, and apparently it's a double-feature, because one of the boys from the swim team steps up to take the coach's place and, though it's an awkward, teenage fuck, Angel gets off on it, leaves just before the coach and his prize swimmer leave Xander to pull himself together. The quiet whimpers of pain and weeping, the running of the shower, follow Angel all the way to the library.

When Xander arrives, a little late, he takes Giles' scolding without comment, settles into a chair when he's told to and fidgets, much to Giles' annoyance. Angel wants to be the one making the boy fidget like that, and he can hear his demon, the part of himself that he calls Angelus, chomping at the bit, aching to fuck the boy the way that so many others have. It makes him squirm a little in his seat as well, though he stills when he notices Buffy’s eyes on him.

The fifth time that Angel comes across Xander engaged in sexual intercourse, he's somewhat miffed that he missed the beginning, only stumbling upon the teen being raped by the demon that they're after when it's well into the act.

He couldn't even make the demon stop if he wanted to because it would kill the boy. And as he fingers himself in the shadows, he reasons that Xander's been experiencing this kind of thing his whole life, what's the harm of letting it happen one more time? The demon inside of him agrees, envisions it happening many more times beneath the well-toned, muscular frame of its host rather than the lesser demon who's got Xander pinned to a tree and one of its many tentacles stuck up his ass.

By the time it’s gotten all four tentacles inside of the boy, Xander's passed out. He never hears the roar of completion that the demon and Angel make simultaneously, nor does he come to while Angel cleans him up, hiding the sexual assault from the rest of the gang, silently reveling in the way the boy looks and smells in the aftermath.

Vampires are not kind. Not even those gifted with souls. Angel knows that Xander already knows this, doubts the boy would be surprised if he were to learn about his habit of following him home and getting off on Xander’s discomfort.

The sixth time Angel happens across Xander, in the restroom at the Bronze. He's with Buffy, but at her insistence, he follows Xander into the bathroom because he’s, “Taking too long.”

Xander’s kneeling in one of the cubicles, and his is face being shoved into the crotch of the drummer of the band that had been playing earlier. The young man’s got more acne than sense.

Instead of standing by and watching it happen again, even though his dick twitches in response to the welcome sight of Xander on his knees, being dominated, Angel grabs the drummer by the back of his neck and tosses him from the stall. The man falls limp, unconscious, to the floor, and Xander thanks Angle with his eyes, lips plump and wet.

Angel checks to make sure they’re alone, save for the unconscious man, then he clicks the locks in place and relishes the fast, fearful beat of Xander's heart when he realizes that his rescuer is also going to be his assaulter.

His begging, “Please, don’t, I’ll stop calling you Deadboy. Please, Angel,” fall on deaf ears.

"Only got a few minutes this time," Angel cautions, licking his lips and running a finger down Xander’s tear-streaked face.

"Buffy's waiting. But you'll come home with me tonight, and I'll make it up to you," Angel promises as he flips Xander around and pushes into him without prepping him first.

The demon in him enjoys the pain, the blood as lubrication. It doesn’t take long for him to come, and when he does, he feels sated, whole again. The soul in him cleans Xander up afterwards, helps him get up on shaky feet and make his apologies to the gang for skipping out early. Angel gains bonus points with Buffy for walking Xander 'home'. He starts planning the different ways that he’s going to enjoy his new pet, whispering them to a rather shell-shocked Xander as he slings an arm over the teen’s shoulder and leads him back to his place.

“I have a feeling that this is just the start of what is going to become a beautiful friendship,” Angel purrs, and he presses his lips to Xander’s cheek, tastes the salt of tears. Something, maybe the memory of his heart, sings when the boy sighs and leans against him.


End file.
